In Your Head
by Lazarus76
Summary: Something that's planted...it grows. But what if it grows into something you can't control? Arthur/Fischer, Arthur/Eames.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

When I first saw him, I couldn't believe it.

He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

He just stood there, clad in that immaculate suit. Completely calm, completely unruffled. A man used to being at the centre of everything, being considered to be the centre of everything.

I just wanted to be close to him. Wanted to touch him.

Then I got my chance.

Running my fingers down that suit...just looking at that face. That face, that gorgeous face. I wanted to cover it with kisses. Lie close, feel his warmth.

But I couldn't. Under pressure. I had to leave him lying there, and then leave.

I never told anyone. Never could tell the Point Man had fallen for the Mark.

* * *

Arthur sighed, and closed his journal. He grimaced as he read the lines over again - they seemed so teenage, so pathetic. He leaned back in his chair, tapping a pencil against the desk.

"You all right?"

He looked over, only to notice Eames' face creased with concern. Ever since their relationship - an intense, slightly messy affair punctuated with arguments and tender make-up sessions - had ended, Eames had always been exceptionally courteous, and gentle. Arthur knew that regret was a key factor in the change of dynamics, but he also knew that he could never take a chance of being with Eames again. He shrugged, and tried to sit up.

"Listen," Cobb was saying, walking in, "it looks as though we have a new case."

"A new case?" Eames raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Cobb looked at him. "How would you feel if I told you we had to go back into the mind of Robert Fischer?"

Arthur looked at the desk, then looked up, and smiled. "Delighted."

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me**

"Go inside Fischer's mind again?" Eames sounded incredulous. "We've just got him to break up his father's Empire...why on earth would we want to go into his mind again?"

"Because," Cobb said, his tone patient, "he's being put under pressure by his godfather. Look."

Arthur leaned forward. _Billionaire Heir Suffering From Stress_, the headline shrieked. Underneath the large print, was a photo of Fischer, looking pale, and slightly unhappy. Arthur leaned closer.

_"Robert Fischer, Jr, the heir to the Fischer-Morrow Conglomerate, has been diagnosed as suffering with grief-induced depression. His godfather, Peter Browning, claims this is due to his father's death - which prompted his decision to divide his father's empire. _

_"Robert needs rest and care," Browning told our reporter. "He's been under a great deal of strain. I blame myself - I should never have let him attend the funeral alone."_

_Rumour is that he's been confined to bed for several weeks."_

"So how are we going to help?" Eames sounded puzzled. "Surely we should let them sort this out?"

"Because we can't," Cobb interjected. "Not this time. We incepted Fischer at Saito's behest, if we let him begin to consider that its not his idea, it could change everything."

"In other words, you've been threatened by Saito," Arthur commented.

"Not exactly threatened," Cobb countered, "but he's made it clear that he's not happy. If Fischer loses it now, we could end up being exposed. The best thing to do is to go back in, and convince him, that this is the right decision."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Eames was slouching in his seat, clearly unimpressed. Cobb's eyes flicked from the Forger to the Point Man.

"I propose we go to where he's hiding, and perform a swift, simple inception."

"And say what?" Arthur commented. "An idea of 'I am in the right?'"

"Not subtle enough," Eames countered. "It has to go to the absolute basic."

Arthur turned to him. "Thank you for being specific," he said, shortly. The tension of the former relationship was threatening to spill over. Eames nodded, and drew back.

"Well, try a different approach," Ariadne broke in. "You could try a tactic that you used before. His relationships. Does he have any?"

"Not that my research has shown," Arthur commented, shortly. He noticed her flinch, and mentally cursed himself. "He's unmarried, no-one special..."

He heard a slight chuckle come from Eames. He turned, and felt a slight pang.

"Well, its obvious," Eames drawled. "Use Arthur as...bait."

"Bait?" Arthur glared at him.

"Well, go along, find him, sweeten him, and incept him." Eames' eyes met Arthur's in a challenging stare. "Reckon you can do that, Arthur?"

Arthur smirked, forgetting that he and Eames had an audience of Cobb and Ariadne.

"Yes, Eames, I think I can."

As soon as he'd uttered the words, he realised

"Then its decided," Cobb spoke, breaking into Arthur's sudden thoughts. "You find him. Incept him. Job done."

Arthur paused. "I will do." Getting up, he began to walk back into the warehouse, his thoughts in a cascading tumult.

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur swallowed, adjusting his position on his bar stool. The penetrating sunlight was slicing through the windows of the elegant space, and the electric fans, he noticed, were doing nothing to help dispell the cloying heat. He sighed, trying to shake off the fatigue of the plane journey.

"Another mojito?"

He looked up. The bartender - young, male, and with light brown hair - was smiling at him. Arthur shook his head.

"No, thank you," he said, courteously. "But ice water would be great, thanks."

The younger man nodded. "Coming up."

Arthur twisted on his seat. The hotel was expensive, and luxurious - exactly the type of place a new young billionaire would possibly walk in. He shrugged. After extensive research, it had emerged that Fischer was in Monte Carlo - playground for the super-rich - and for reasons unknown.

Arthur stared at the ice dissolving in his mojito. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Eames.

"Well, you did dare me to do this." He'd looked at Eames as he'd carefully packed away his laptop. The Forger had stood still, and shrugged.

"You don't have to go through with it." His tone had been hesitant, causing the Point Man to pause, momentarily.

"Its not a question of going through with it. Its a question of finishing the job." Arthur zipped up his black flight case. "Its a question of incepting Fischer again, and then, leaving."

Eames looked at him. "Sure thats all?"

"What does it matter?" Arthur was struggling to keep an even tone in his voice. "We're finished. Over. We're not together anymore."

Eames flinched, and Arthur felt a stab of guilt. The relationship had been difficult - but when it had worked, it had, he realised sadly, been wonderful. He swallowed. Eames looked almost miserable.

"Listen," Arthur said, softly. "I will be back, OK?"

Eames shrugged. "Well, maybe. But does it matter?"

Arthur looked at him. "You know it does."

"Well. Its just..." Eames looked at him. "I feel I've turned you into a honeytrap for Fischer."

Arthur shook his head. "Eames. No-one forces me to do what I don't want."

He sighed, and nodded gratefully as the ice water appeared. He tipped the bartender, and picked it up, preparing to take it back to his room, when a voice made him stop.

"Am I boring you?"

Blinking, Arthur turned his head. Sitting at a table, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, was Robert Fischer. Sitting next to him was a plastecine blonde.

"Oh, no," Fischer said, shaking his head. "No, really. I just- I have a couple of meetings to attend, thats all."

She pouted at him, pulling down the features of her exquisitely made up face. "Thats a shame. We could have had some fun."

Fischer smiled, a touch uneasily. "Well, maybe."

She looked at him, realising that her opportunity was fading fast. "Well, I can give you my number," she commented, and got off her chair. Smiling, she leaned over him. "You don't know what your missing."

Fischer nodded. "I'll bear that in mind."

Arthur waited, watching as the blonde woman left the table. Clearly, her attempt to ensnare one of the world's most desirable bachelors was finished. Arthur waited, and then began to move over to where Fischer sat. He was toying with an iPhone, seemingly oblivious to the bustling bar. Arthur raised an eyebrow - even among the super-rich, people who should have been his natural peers, Robert Fischer appeared out of place. Loneliness appeared to cling to him, in the same manner as his expensive Armani shirt. Naturally, tastefully. Something he couldn't shake off.

Arthur got up, and began to move towards the table. Adjusting his soft grey suit, he moved closely, appearing hesitant.

Fischer clicked off the message he was sending, and looked up. "May I help you?"

"Is this seat taken?" Arthur looked at Fischer, his face open. The slightly older man looked up, hesitantly.

"I...no," Fischer said, shaking his head. "If you'd like to."

"Thank you." Arthur sat down, and smiled at him, reassuringly. Fischer blinked.

"I, uh," Fischer seemed at a loss for words. "I'm-"

"Oh, sorry," Arthur said, offering his hand. "Arthur. Arthur Hamilton."

"Robert Fischer," the other man said, wrapping his fingers around his.

Arthur smiled. "Good to meet you, Mr Fischer."

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"Well," Robert said, his eyes fixing on Arthur. "What brings you to Monte Carlo?"

Arthur swallowed. "Business," he said, his tone nonchalent. "Business...meetings...gossip."

The edges of Robert's mouth curved in a slight smile. "It gets wearing, doesn't it? Traveling for business."

Arthur leaned back in his seat. He reached for his water glass. "Well, its part of life, I guess." He refrained from telling the other man that travel was the key part of his work. Taking a sip of water, he studied Fischer. Nothing about him gave anything away...except a slightly wistful look in his eyes, which were the colour of a bright, foaming ocean. He looked at the table. This man was the mark.

_No point in being sentimental. Get what you need. _

"It is," Fischer replied. Arthur paused. The other man was not an especially engaging conversationalist. He swallowed, trying to think of some common ground. He decided to take a risk.

"Your last name is Fischer, right?" He spoke casually, as though he'd misheard. "You wouldn't have happened to have been related to the Maurice Fischer, would you?"

His words had an immediate effect. Robert sat up straighter, and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yes. He was my father. He died in Sydney last year." He looked at Arthur. "I think everyone involved in business knows I'm his son. Why do you ask me that?"

Arthur swallowed. He'd taken a risk, and wrong footed himself. For once, the Point Man was left feeling slightly vulnerable. "I just wanted to check." He met Robert's eyes. "I sometimes worry about embarrassing myself."

Suddenly, to his sense of shock, Fischer's hand emerged and clamped down on his wrist. "What do you want?" Robert's tone was low, and cold. "If its a ransom, I'm insured against kidnapping for over ten million. Understand?"

"I think you've misunderstood me." Arthur looked at him, directly. "I was just making polite conversation."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "You want something. I know you do." He stared at him, full in the face. "Tell me what-"

Arthur blinked. Suddenly, a voice pierced the tense atmosphere shrouding them. "Robert!"

Arthur turned. An older man had appeared, and he recognised him immediately. Robert stood up. "Uncle Peter." He threw Arthur a scornful look, and began to push his chair back in.

The Point Man swallowed. "Look, I didn't mean to offend you," he spoke urgently, in a low voice. "Can't we-"

Robert shook his head. "Sorry, I have a meeting to go to." He shrugged. "I might see you around."

Arthur took a deep breath. "Well, I'm in room 347," he said, coolly. "If you're interested in someone you seem to think is another gold digger." He stopped, watching a rose flush colour the other man's porcelain complexion. Realising Browning was looking at him, curiously, he turned and walked out of the bar.

_Just go home. Let Eames laugh at you. _

* * *

"Who was that?" Browning pressed. He and Robert were leaving the bar, and heading for the outside. Robert swallowed, looking after Arthur's retreating figure. "No-one," he mumbled.

"Didn't look like it," Browning said, scrutinising his godson. "Listen, Robert, you're still suffering from grief. I know your father's death was a shock to you, I know what he said to you was a shock, but-"

"I'm fine." Robert's tone was slightly hard. "Really. He was just-" he shrugged. "He was just trying to find out how much money he could get. I'm sure of it."

Browning shook his head. "Robert. I know you're an adult, but listen to me. You need to think about what's best for your image, that and this new company you're intent on setting up!"

"What's best for my image?" Robert turned to the older man, his eyes meeting his directly. "Oh, I know. A nice little blonde trophy wife, and maybe two nice little kids. Its not going to happen. You know that."

"Robert." Browning's voice was firm. "Your father-"

"My father told me he'd be disappointed if I tried to be like him." The younger man looked stolidly at Browning. "You know that my parents' marriage was a mess. You know that. He didn't want me to be him."

Browning sighed. "I have no idea where you got this idea from, Robert. But, I don't want to try and dissuade you." He checked his watch. "I have to meet with one of the brokers. I'll see you at dinner."

Robert nodded. "Yes."

He turned, and watched Browning stalk off. Then, he headed for the elevator.

* * *

Arthur stretched out on his bed, closing his eyes. The urge to pack and leave on the first available flight was becoming overwhelming. Fischer was so - hard. Closed off.

_The inception did some real damage. God, I wish we'd seen that. _

He felt a montage of images play through his mind. The initial abduction. The threats. The hotel. And he winced when he saw the confusion and vulnerability move across Fischer's face when he began to think that his godfather - the only person he'd ever trusted - was betraying him.

The Point Man sat up, swinging his legs round to the side. Rubbing his forehead, he began to get up. A shower, he thought, dully. That would help clear his head.

Thirty minutes later, he emerged from a bathroom full of steam, his body flushed pink. Rifling through his closet, he located and began to pull on a fresh suit. As he was buttoning his shirt, there was a knock on the door.

He bit his lip in irritation. "One minute!" he called out, zipping up his flies. He walked to the door, and opened it.

He stood, astonished. Robert Fischer stood in the doorway, looking uncertain, and, Arthur could have sworn, slightly nervous.

"Hello," he said, his tone courteous. "I, um, was wondering if you wanted to go for dinner?"

Arthur, stunned, looked at him.

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Dinner?" Arthur repeated.

"Yes," Robert said, nodding. "I don't really want to-" he paused, and his voice faded slightly. "I don't want to have to eat alone."

Arthur looked at him, and caught a glimpse of a very different Fischer - one that appeared to be lonely. And, he thought, raising an eyebrow, vulnerable.

"Well, I can join you," he said, his mind racing. "But I-"

"I'm paying," Robert insisted, as though that was all that was needed. Arthur looked at him.

"Mr Fischer," Arthur said, slightly coolly, "I can't be bought." Robert looked slightly shocked, and his face began to close up. Arthur saw the familiar sneer begin to settle on the other man's features. He smiled, icily.

"Really." There was a deadening finality in Fischer's voice. "The way you're turned out, and the way you approached me - I assumed you were a high class male escort." Arthur felt himself turning crimson. "So, if you can't be bought, shame. But, don't worry. I'll find someone else to entertain me this evening."

He turned, making his way to leave. Arthur swallowed. _Remember the job._

"Robert!" He called out. Fischer turned. "Yes?"

"Let me pay half," Arthur said, slowly. "Please."

There was a ghost of a smile flickering across the other man's face. "Very well."

* * *

"So, you decided to just split up your father's empire?"

Robert nodded, his expression slightly glazed. Arthur leaned back in his seat, and took a sip of Chardonnay. They were waiting for their main course, basking in the soft light and gentle swell of chatter in the hotel's magnificent dining hall. Arthur shifted, feeling his starter of venison carpaccio begin to digest.

"Yes." Robert shook his head, and put down his own wine glass. "I grew up trying to please my father. Wanting to be like my father." He swallowed. "I thought if I went to Yale, got a business degree, I could train to run the company. It turns out that wasn't what he wanted. At all."

"Really?" Arthur probed, carefully. He waited for Robert to speak again.

"Well, it was-" Robert broke off, as the waiter approached, and carefully laid plates down in front of them. He stared at the cool pink salmon steak on his plate, and appeared to be mentally phrasing his words.

"It was bizarre," he finally spoke. "I was going to LA to the funeral, and when I got there, I realised that my father didn't want me to be him. He wanted me to be my own man. Split up the empire. Build something for myself."

Arthur nodded. "Well, people always doubt their parents' motives-"

Robert smiled. "I guess so."

The two men ate is silence for a few minutes, then Arthur spoke again.

"So, how did you begin to split up the company?"

Robert shrugged. "Through selling it off. That's why I'm here. Seeking buyers." He looked at Arthur. "Why are you here?"

"Research," Arthur answered, truthfully. "I work for a small company."

Robert nodded. "I see." He smiled at Arthur. "So, would you like some more wine?"

Arthur looked at him. "Why not?"

Robert picked up the bottle, and poured him another glass. "Here."

Arthur picked it up, and took a sip.

"You know," Robert said, softly, "this is the first time I've had dinner with someone who wasn't connected to the company for - "

"For what?"

"A long time."

Arthur noticed the other man lapsed into silence. "Its...difficult," he admitted. "I assumed most people were only interested in the money."

Arthur leaned forward. "Trust me," he said, his voice seductive,"I'm not."

Robert leaned in. "Then you'll join me in my room, for a nightcap?"

Arthur nodded. "Of course."

* * *

"This way."

Arthur followed Robert to the top of the hotel. As they reached the door, the older man pulled out his white card key, and slid it through the lock. "Come on in."

Arthur followed him. The suite, he noted, was easily the most expensive that the hotel could offer. His eyes took in the simple, elegant luxury. Robert headed for the mini bar. "What would you like?"

"Scotch, please."

"On the rocks?"

"Neat."

Robert uncorked the bottle, and Arthur heard the splash of liquid into the glass. After a few seconds, he was presented with the glass of deep amber liquid. "Here," Robert said, smiling.

"Thank you." The Point Man took a sip, and Robert gazed at him, slightly dispassionately. He lifted his own glass. "What shall we drink to?"

"New beginnings," Arthur said, after a pause. "New friendships?"

Robert's ice blue eyes glittered. "I would hope to be more than friends, Arthur." He flushed slightly. "Forgive me, that was forward."

Arthur swallowed. "No, it wasn't." He looked at Fischer. He needed to get close to him, get inside his head. Needed to perform what he had to. He struggled with his conscience - did he really want to take advantage of this vulnerable, lonely man?

_Do what you have to. This was part of the plan._

"Arthur," Robert breathed slowly. He was approaching the younger man, and Arthur suddenly felt Robert's breath on his neck, hot and urgent. "Arthur, would you-?"

Arthur felt a rush of intensity, those long, thin fingers crawling up his chest. He swallowed, suddenly aware he could potentially give himself away. "We've got time-"

"No. No you don't."

Arthur blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. He turned his head, and his eyes widened. Fischer was looking at him with an expression of intense urgency.

"You don't have time," he breathed, "until you tell me one thing. LAX. The morning after my flight back from Sydney. I saw someone who looked like you at the airport. Where you on that flight?"

Arthur felt himself freeze slightly. "What if I was?"

"Well, its strange." Robert's voice had lowered to a rasp. "I got on that flight in Sydney, hating my father, and convinced I was a disappointment. I wake up after a fifteen hour flight, suddenly thinking that I wasn't a disappointment - unless I tried to be him. I believe its called inception, Arthur."

The Point Man's blood began to turn to ice. He took a step back. Fischer gave no indication of physical strength - Arthur was confident he could take him down if he had to.

"The question is," Fischer continued, "is what was in it for you?"

Arthur swallowed, his mind racing. As he looked down, he felt a sudden pressure against his abdomen. Then he saw the gun.

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Robert," Arthur said, slowly. "Put the gun down."

"Its Mr Fischer to you," the slightly older man snapped. The gun didn't waver. "Remember who you're talking to."

Arthur cocked his head, and looked at him. "I know you're not intimidated by me, Mr Fischer," he said, quietly. "But - I really wouldn't hold the gun like that. Put it down."

"Don't give me orders." Fischer's stance was hard, unyielding. "Something happened on that flight. Something that's had a major effect on my life. And you know what it is."

"Maybe I do." The Point Man took a step forward. "Maybe I do know what happened to you. But maybe, you don't want to know."

"Tell me." Robert kept the gun trained on Arthur. "Or, I will kill you."

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think so, Mr Fischer. In fact, I doubt you even want to. Being the heir to a major corporation will not keep you out of jail."

Fischer smirked, his lip curling. "No, trust me. I know the right people. And it seems you don't."

Arthur took another step forward. "Mr. Fischer. Put the gun down."

"No."

The Point Man shook his head, regretfully. "If you insist." Without warning, he moved forward and punched the other man in the jaw, causing Robert to double over. The gun tumbled from his hand. Like lightning, Arthur reached down, scooped it up, and directed it at Robert.

"OK," Arthur said, coldly. "Now we can talk. Sit down."

Robert looked up, wincing. Arthur studied his face - there would be a bruise on his jawline the following day. Swallowing, he gestured with the gun. "Sit down."

Robert looked at him, and Arthur noticed the hardness was beginning to fade. An anxious look was beginning to creep across his face, and the Point Man saw a glimpse of the vulnerable boy that tried to hide behind his facade. "All right."

Robert settled himself on the bed. Arthur kept the gun pointed at him.

"You think you went on a flight, and someone went into your mind." Arthur kept his voice firm. "But why do you think that, Mr Fischer?"

"Because." Robert smirked. "Before I went on that flight, I hated my father. He was cold, distant, and at the end, when he was on his death bed, he told me that he was...disappointed. But, when I got off that flight, I told my godfather that my father did not want me to be him."

Arthur shrugged. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Fischer looked at him. "There was a man. Mr Charles. Who told me that I was under, and dreaming. Told me that he would protect me."

"Protect you from what?"

"I don't know." A hardness had begun to enter Robert's voice again. "But, its really simple. I decided, when I got off that plane, to break up my father's empire. My godfather thinks I'm suffering from stress, I'm traumatised. So, would you care to tell me the truth?"

"The truth?" Arthur looked at him. "I'll tell you the truth."

Robert smirked. "Go ahead. And then, you can call a lawyer."

"The truth is that you're lonely." Arthur looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "The truth is, you wanted your father's approval. The truth is, you're tired of being bullied by your godfather, tired of being seen as a weak, spoiled brat. The truth is, you want someone to believe in you."

Robert looked at him, his face paling. "Stop it," he whispered.

"You can't handle it, can you?" Arthur leaned in close, their eyes locking. "You can't handle being told the truth, Robert, because you think your money is a defence. Its not."

Robert looked at him. "And I suppose you're going to show me how to defend myself?" His tone was mocking. "How I can be loved?"

Arthur took a step backwards, stunned. "What?"

"You don't think I invited you to dinner just for this, did you?" Robert's fingers were beginning to creep up his shirt again. "Come on..."

Arthur swallowed. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and without warning, Browning burst in.

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur blinked as Browning entered. The older man was glaring at him.

"Robert!" he exclaimed. "I thought we were meeting for dinner?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Uncle Peter," Robert replied, his tone calm. "I met Arthur, and, well, we decided to go for dinner."

Browning looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I see."

Robert nodded. "Yes."

"Well, if that's the arrangement..." Browning swallowed, Arthur watching the older man trying to control the muscles in his face. "I'll see you later." Turning, he walked out of the room, Arthur looking at the floor as he left.

"So he thinks I'm-"

Robert shrugged. "Just some high class gold digging whore I picked up." He walked over to the mini bar, and pulled out the Scotch. "But, whilst its not true, its convenient for me to have him think it is."

Arthur watched him. "So, what do you-"

"I want to know what you did." Robert picked up the glass, and took a swallow.

Arthur shook his head. "If I tell you-"

"Oh, don't worry, I won't have you arrested." Fischer shrugged. "Mainly because it will serve me no purpose. You go to jail, but you could be more useful to me on the outside."

The Point Man raised an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yes, Arthur, really." Robert nodded. "I mean, you're pretty lonely...aren't you?"

The words hit Arthur like a splash of ice cold water. "Excuse me?"

"You're lonely." Robert was coming closer, his smile reminding Arthur of a shark scenting blood. "Your whole life revolvs around your job. You never go anywhere, never see anyone. Except your team. And didn't you and one of them have a little affair at some point?"

Arthur took a step back. _Get out of this room, _an inner voice chanted at him. He began to take more stealthy steps back, intending to grab at the door.

"I know about you, Arthur," Robert said, soothingly. "I know how lonely you are, how much you wish you weren't so dependent on your job. But thats fine, because I'm lonely too."

Arthur blinked. The look on Fischer's face was one of near melancholy.

"I-"

"Come on," Robert said, moving towards him. "You have no idea, Arthur. No idea what its like growing up as the son to a billionaire. Never having anyone there for you. Never really knowing what a family is."

Arthur shook his head. "This isn't going to work."

"And I always hated my father...but then apparently, he loved me. You incepted me, made me forgive the old bastard." Robert's eyes burned. "How could you? All I wanted was to get my hands on that Empire. His empire. My empire."

Arthur swallowed. Fischer's long fingers were beginning to caress his face.

"And you took it from me," he whispered. Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed Arthur's face, and brought his lips to his.

**Thank you for reading, reviews appreciated!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur's eyes widened as Robert pressed his lips to his. For a moment, he forgot where he was, and what he had intended to do. He merely let those lips - warm, gentle lips - guide him.

The older man began to walk forward, urgently pressing Arthur to move. Without hesitating, Arthur allowed himself to be forced onto the bed, feeling the mattress sag gently under their combined weights. As Robert turned, they lay, facing each other.

The Point Man swallowed. Looking into Robert's eyes, the colour of a sun-kissed ocean, he felt his emotions, and his body, begin to shift, and harden.

"You want this." Robert's voice was thick with emotion. "You want this, Arthur. I know you do."

Arthur swallowed. "You're very sure of yourself."

"As I said, I know how lonely you are." Robert reached out, and brushed a strand of hair off Arthur's forehead. "I know you spend a lot of time wondering. Waiting. Hoping."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And you're arrogant enough to assume that I'm waiting for you?"

Robert smirked, an unmistakeable smirk born of wealth-infused confidence. "Arthur. Why did you come here? Why did you even approach me?"

Arthur swallowed. "Well, I-"

"Let's do this another way." Robert stretched out, his long, thin body nestling in the bed covers. "You approached me. You approached me because you came here...for a job. Would you like to explain what the job was?"

"No." The Point Man looked at him. "But, you seem to know everything about me, so why don't you guess?"

"I never guess."

"Robert." Arthur fixed him with a glare. "If you continue like this-" he thought of the gun snugly resting, hidden, against his waist - "you will regret it."

Robert raised an eyebrow, his demeanour that of a self-satisfied man. "I never regret anything I do, Arthur. I only regret that I never do it sooner."

Arthur looked at him. "Well. Do it then."

Robert looked taken aback. "Are you sure?" his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, perfectly sure," Arthur replied. "Please."

Robert rolled on top of him, Arthur immediately registering the othe man's slight weight and frame, in contrast to Eames' imposing bulk. As he relaxed, he felt one hand begin to caress his groin, whilst Robert began to move his lips down Arthur's neck, kissing, and gently biting. Arthur swallowed, trying not to feel distracted by the other man's intensity.

"Now, this tie," Robert murmured, unknotting it, and pulling it from under his collar, "is in my way. I resent things being in my way, Arthur."

"You've never had to apologise or explain anything you've done, have you?" Arthur choked out, as Robert ripped at the collar of his shirt, opening the buttons, exposing his neck. "You always do what you want?"

Robert smirked again. "I do what I want that i never have to explain."

"You-" Arthur felt his words smothered as Robert leaned in for a kiss. As his tongue probed Arthur, moving into him, exploring him, the Point Man instinctively began to reach for his gun.

Suddenly, he stopped. Fingers- long, hard, bony fingers - were wrapping themselves around his wrist, and pulling his hand out.

"Don't," Robert said, smiling. "Let me enjoy this. You really think you stand a chance?"

Arthur swallowed. _Don't provoke him, _he told himself. Carefully, he watched as Robert removed the gun, lying it on the bedside table.

"Now," Robert purred. "Where was I?"

Wit one deft movement, he ripped open the front of Arthur's shirt. Then, leaning over, he began to kiss his open chest.

"Is this good?" Robert looked up, his eyes flashing. "Well, is it?"

Arthur swallowed, unable to think. "I-"

"Answer me!" Robert demanded. "Is this good?"

Arthur nodded, his body beginning to finally respond to Robert's lightness of touch, and deft movements. "Yes," he breathed.

"Its what you want," Robert insisted. "What you want, Arthur."

The Point Man tilted his head, his eyes catching Robert's, and he began to smile.

"Yes," he said, a purr in his voice. "It is."

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the long hiatus with this one!**

Arthur sighed, and stretched. Robert was lying next to him, naked, entangled in the bed sheet. On impulse, the younger man leaned over and began tracing his fingers up the other man's back.

"You ok?"

"Never better." Robert turned his head, and smiled, his brilliant blue eyes catching and flashing in the light. "Thank you."

Arthur slumped back in bed, feeling satisfied. It had started with Robert putting his lips to his...and then exploded into a passionate embrace. Suddenly, both men were undressing, then naked, Arthur revelling in the feel of Robert's body pressing onto his.

He flicked his eyes to the partially closed curtains. The daylight was fading, melting into early evening. Splashes of light pink and faded orange were streaking the sky, the azure blue beginning to dissipate. He yawned, and settled back.

To his surprise, Robert turned over, and began to move closer.

"I never thought..." the older man began, "that when I came here for a business trip, this would happen. I'd meet someone who I'd actually-"

He lapsed into silence. Arthur swallowed and listened.

"...Actually like," the older man finished. He leaned over, and kissed Arthur's neck. "Thank you."

Arthur revelled in Robert's attention. He felt his lips lightly trace themselves over his skin. "Mmm," he sighed. Robert pulled away slightly, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"Its getting late," Robert commented, turning his eyes away from Arthur to study the bedside clock. "Shall we order room service?"

Arthur blinked. "Well, I-"

Robert shrugged. "I just want some coffee. You up for that?"

Arthur swallowed. It was 11pm. "Well, if you think..."

Robert nodded, smiling. "I do. Despite being told by my father once that I clearly didn't." He leaned against the bedstead, and reached on the side for the phone. Arthur settled back into the pillows as Robert ordered fresh coffee.

The Point Man began to get out of bed. As he replaced the receiver, Fischer leaned over and grabbed his wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked, playfully.

Arthur swallowed. Robert's grip was harder and firmer than he'd expected. "Bathroom."

Fischer smiled, lazily. "Don't be too long." The Point Man blinked - the hinted neediness was unexpected. Feeling slightly thrown, he began to get up, reaching for a robe.

Robert settled back onto the pillows.

Arthur locked the door, carefully. He peered at himself in the mirror, frowning at a large reddish mark that was becoming visible on his neck. He gently splashed his face with water, voided his bladder, and then washed. Through the low thrum of running water, he heard the sound of the door opening.

Room service.

He swallowed. A feeling of concern was beginning to niggle. Coffee...at 11pm. He reached for his robe. As he unlocked the door, he noticed Robert was also wrapped in one, and sipping delicately at a china cup. He smiled as he saw Arthur.

"Oh, I've poured you one. Here."

Arthur looked at Robert, suspicion suddenly starting to grow. He was becoming aware that behind the handsome facade was a personality that was coated in ice. He had been enjoyable...for the evening. This was a man that considered everything and everyone to be a commodity.

"Do have some coffee." Arthur looked at the cup. _Stop being paranoid. _He picked up the cup.

Robert was smiling. Suddenly, Arthur felt a pressure in his side. He looked down.

The gun.

"Drink it." It was a command. Feeling it was the only way out, Arthur took a swallow of the thick, black brew. It burned a path down his throat, hitting his stomach. He gulped.

"You should start feeling it in a few minutes. Here, let me help you sit down."

Feeling numb, Arthur let Robert take his arm, gently removing the cup. Before he could get on the bed, his eyes began to close, and he sagged against him.

Robert took it in, dispassionately. Quietly, he began to open the door, and leave.

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur blinked, and opened his eyes. He was lying in a bed, an unfamiliar one. As he turned his head and looked, he saw Robert sitting in a chair, sipping liquid from a cup. He swallowed, and started to try and get out of bed.

"Morning," Robert said, gently. "I take it you slept well?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Where am I?"

Robert shrugged. "My penthouse. New York." He smiled. "I thought about taking you to Sydney, but I didn't know if you'd stay asleep for the entire flight."

"You've abducted me," Arthur said, coldly, then felt his face flush as Robert began to laugh.

"Abduct? Oh, Arthur. That's so...childish. Is it any worse than invading my head? Telling me what to think?" He shrugged and took another sip of liquid as Arthur lapsed into silence. "No. Didn't think so."

"You drugged me."

"Yes. Pretty potent stuff. Good old Yusuf, right?"

"Yusuf?" Arthur repeated the name, stunned. The thought of the Chemist's involvement was a shock. He'd assumed that he'd left, and travelled back to Mombasa.

"I did some...research." Robert put his cup down, and leaned forward. "I found out who created the compound. Who made us all go under for so long. And then, I tracked him down."

Arthur swallowed. "Did you-"

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Robert called out "come in!". Arthur blinked. The tone was genial, not what he'd expected. A woman appeared, dressed in a sombre grey dress, carrying a tray. Robert smiled as she entered. When she turned to him, her expression was almost motherly.

"I thought you might need breakfast," she said, dryly. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Oh, Lucinda..." Robert almost whined, "I did eat on the plane..."

She shook her head. "I promised Mr Browning I'd take care of you, Mr Fischer. You're as thin as a rail, and you know I don't approve of diets." She set the tray down, and removed the cover from one of the plates. "Eat."

Robert turned to Arthur. "This is Lucinda, my housekeeper. She's-"

"Been taking care of him for about fifteen years," she said, dryly.

"Wouldn't be without her," Robert said, and Arthur saw the sincerity flash in the man's eyes. "Thank you, Lucinda. Much appreciated."

The woman nodded, and began to leave. Robert gestured towards the food. "Shall we eat?"

Arthur swallowed. "Not if its drugged."

Robert picked up his fork. "I can assure you that Lucinda would not do that." He shook his head. "She is completely trustworthy, and the closest thing I've had to a mother for nearly twenty years."

Arthur smiled. "Bit of a lost boy, aren't you, Robert?"

Robert raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." He got up, and lifted his tray. "I think I'll eat in my room."

Speechless, Arthur watched as Robert turned, and left. "You think you're the cat," he mumbled, as the door shut softly, "but, trust me. You're the mouse."

**reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed, and shifted. He blinked, realising that he'd been asleep. Biting his lip, he quickly scanned the room. The pristine sheets, and smoothness were exactly as they had been before.

Robert, he realised, had drugged him. He turned his head, looking at the discarded food tray. Rubbing his forehead, he began to sit up.

"Feeling tired?"

He nearly jumped, and turned his head. Peter Browning was standing in the doorway, his arms folded. Arthur made eye contact, and nodded.

"Well, I knew Robert was lonely - but I didn't realise he was this lonely."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Browning's cutting tone made him flinch.

"He brings you back with him? How much is he paying you?"

Arthur's eyes widened slightly. He remembered Robert's seemingly casual comment of how Browning would consider Arthur a whore for rent. The Point Man smiled involuntarily, realising that the young man's guardian clearly had no memory or even recognition of him.

"Well, I'm not cheap," Arthur said, smiling. "But I can be bought." He got up, pulling his robe around him. "And Robert pays very generously."

Browning's face darkened. "You little-" he shook his head, clearly trying to compose himself. "I suggest you keep to yourself. When Robert's involved in business meetings, I don't want to see your face. Understand?"

Arthur shrugged. "Suits me."

His coolly insolent tone only served to anger Browning further. As the other man's face flushed a slightly darker shade, Arthur heard footsteps. As the door opened, Robert entered.

"Oh, Uncle Peter." He cast a quick glance at the older man. "I see you've met my newest playmate."

Browning's face paled. "Playmate?"

"Well, he's not going to be around very long." Robert strode over to Arthur, and wrapped his arms around him. "He's just a passing fancy." He kissed Arthur on the cheek, and stroked it. "Just someone to pass the time with."

Arthur turned and looked at Robert. The other man smiled smugly, and caressed his cheek with his thumb.

"Well," Browning said, clearly unwilling to stay. "I'll leave you alone, shall I?"

Robert turned, and smiled. "Probably for the best."

As the older man turned and shut the door, Robert snaked his hand around Arthur's waist. "Come on..."

Arthur pulled away, grabbing the other man's wrist. "What are you playing at, Robert?"

Robert smirked. "You want information, right?"

Arthur nodded.

"Then this is the only way you're going to get it." Robert leaned in again, and gently nibbled Arthur's lower lip. "Now. On the bed."

**Thank you for reading - please leave a review, it is appreciated!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus. **

Arthur looked at Robert. The other man´s expression was unyielding.

"Bed?" Arthur repeated.

Robert shrugged. "Its seems to me you were up for it a couple of nights ago. Don´t tell me you´re not easy."

Arthur felt his cheeks start to burn at the insult. He had been easy, he realised with a pang. Too ready and willing to drop his clothes for the other man, the man who now held not only his fate, but that of four other people in his hands.

"I´m not," Arthur replied, coolly. "I only do things if I want to."

"Oh, Arthur," Robert whispered, "you wound me." He scowled at him, revealing the spoiled teenager who had never quite grown up. "Do you want information or not?"

Arthur swallowed. _Remember the plan. _"Yes."

"Good." Robert began to tug him forward, and circled his arms round his waist. "Now, listen. This is the only information you´re going to get. Browning. Extraction. That´s all."

Arthur frowned. "What?"

"I need Browning out of my company," Robert snapped. "He needs to go. I´ve accepted that you gave me a false idea, and now because of what you started, he´s trying to lock me out. He´ll claim its for my own protection."

Arthur blinked. "Robert-"

"What?"

"What would happen to him?" Arthur felt the need to ask. A gnawing feeling of guilt was beginning to assert itself, over what they had done to Robert, and now what he was poised to do to his godfather. "What would you-"

"Not my problem," Robert snapped. "After you do this." He leaned forward, and caressed Arthur´s cheek. "I´ll pay you."

Arthur took a step back. "Sure its all about money?" His tone held a challenging note, and his muscles were tensed. "Sure you don´t just want...me?"

Robert smiled, exposing his teeth. "You? What makes you think I want you? A man who is a criminal, a man who tried to ruin my life at the whim of a corporate bastard who thought he´d take advantage of my father dying?" His voice was soft. "No, Arthur, you´re good for just sex, but I don´t´want you."

"But I told Cobb-" Arthur paused, suddenly feeling somewhat helpless. "I told Cobb to walk away from it." His mind flashed back to that life changing day in Tokyo, standing on the freezing helipad, watching Cobb lured into making a decision that suddenly changed the rules of his life. Robert, his arms folded, glared at him.

"But did you walk away? No." Robert smiled, mockingly. "Oh, please Arthur, spare me your sanctimnoious act. It really doesn´t suit you. You went along with it, because you felt that it was the right thing to do. Let´s destroy my life, as long as Dominic Cobb, a man who murdered his wife, gets home to his children who would no doubt despise their father if they knew the truth about him."

Blinking in shock, Arthur stared dully at the thin figure in front of him. _He´s right, _he thought, with shock. He hadn´t agreed with the inception, or even wanted to do it, but he´d gone along with it. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the thoughts starting to swirl through.

"He didn´t kill Mal," Arthur spat out. "She-"

"Committed suicide because of his inception." Robert raised an eyebrow. "An idea is like a virus...it grows. And what if it grows into something you can´t control? Did you really think I wouldn´t realise something was wrong? Waking up on that flight, suddenly feeling tearful and grief stricken, suddenly thinking that my father didn´t want me to be him, but my own man? Did you really think I didn´t have evidence to prove the contrary? Dreams, Arthur. Memories. Memories of all the times he´d ignored me, all the times he´d pushed me aside at board meetings, all the times he´d told me I wasn´t good enough to be his son." Arthur blinked - tears were starting to run out of Robert´s china blue eyes. "Do you have any idea what its like, to realise that you´d had something planted in your head, something to change the way you felt towards someone you´d spent 32 years of your life hating?"

Arthur shook his head. "No," he replied, softly. He took a step forward. His guilt at the other man´s pain and distress was starting to spiral into a desire to help, to comfort, and reassure. He reached out. "Robert, please, let me-"

"Make it up to me?" He said, smiling thinly. "Oh, you´re going to. You´re going to extract from Browning that he was ever involved with this company, and therefore, I´ll no longer have him hanging around."

"But he was a second father to-"

"No, he was not." Robert shrugged. "He was instrumental in pushing me out of the way. He wanted me to have Fischer Morrow so he could control it. Not so he could help me."

"So if you get rid of Browning-"

"Fischer morrow will be mine. And as for Saito - well, he´d better watch his back."

Arthur blinked. "Robert-"

"Let me make this really easy for you, Arthur," Fischer interrupted. "You care about your team, yes? Cobb, Eames, that little Architect?"

Arthur nodded. Something cold and ugly started to move in his stomach; its twin awoke in his mind. "Yes."

"Do this for me, I´ll let you go. If not, I´ll kill them. I´ll kill them all."

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you! Yes, I am on holiday, but have a free hour, and wifi at the hotel, so...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur looked at Robert, his dark eyes clouding. "Robert. You're angry with me, Dom...its understandable. But please...the others-"

"I thought that would get you worried," Robert said, soothingly. He reached out, and gently rubbed Arthur's cheek with his thumb. "But, I promise you, do as I ask, its all over, you go home and back to them! Its very simple, Arthur!"

The Point Man swallowed. _Bide your time, _he told himself. He looked at Robert, meeting his china blue eyes, seemingly as large and innocent as a doll's.

"All right," he said, hoping the words didn't sound as strained to Robert as they did to him. "If it protects the others, I'll-"

"Comply. I knew you would." Robert cast him an appraising look. "Now, we need to get you dressed. Browning has invited people for dinner...and I expect you to be there. It'll rattle the old man. Which is what I need."

Arthur looked at him. "Robert-"

"There's nothing in your size. I know," Robert said, soothingly. "Which is why I am taking you to buy clothes." He smiled, tanalisingly. "All on my credit card, hmmm?"

Arthur looked at him. A sickening feeling was starting to grow in his stomach, and spread throughout his body. By agreeing to this, he'd become Fischer's property. But, he thought, with an edge of desperation, it was all he could do to keep the others safe.

He straightened up, and smiled at Robert, almost cockily.

"If you think you can afford me," he said, almost flirtatiously.

Robert leaned forward.

"Arthur," he whispered, softly. "There's nothing I can't buy."

* * *

Arthur looked at himself in the mirror, from every angle.

The suit was expensive. He mused, thinking how the cost would have paid his rent for at least three months. It was beautifully cut, dark grey, and the shirt and silk tie he was wearing complimented it well.

He bit his lip. _I'm in danger of becoming a rich man's pampered plaything. _He shrugged his shoulders. Robert was spoiled, and bitter; but, Arthur thought grimly, he'd underestimated him. He looked at himself. No gun, but he was sure he could protect himself if he needed to.

He smiled at his reflection. Straightening his jacket, he began to leave the room.

As he exited the bedroom, he nearly walked straight into Browning. The older man glared at him, with barely disguised anger. "I see youre still here." The venom in his tone was perceptible, but Arthur suspected he would keep overt hostility to himself.

"I'm here for as long as Robert wants me," Arthur replied. The older man eyed him, aggressively.

"I'm not sure Robert's in his right mind," Browning said, coldly. "Maurice's death was a blow to him. The last thing he needs is some...whore...sniffing around, trying to extract cash. You may look as though you have class, but I know that deep down you're just another money grubber, just like the others."

Arthur swallowed. "I'm sorry you think that."

Without acknowledging the reply, Browning moved down the stairs, and Arthur followed. As he was about to enter the lounge, he was stopped, by Robert.

"Oh, Arthur, you do look wonderful." He smiled, beguilingly. "Would you come over here? There is someone I want to introduce you to. Very brilliant man, knows a great deal about industry. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Arthur, noticing the looks of the other guests, kept his face composed. "I'm sure."

"Ichiro!" Robert called. "Would you come here, please?"

Arthur blinked as Ichiro Saito walked forward, a martini in his hand. He smiled at Arthur. "Good evening."

Robert, smiling, leaned into Arthur. "I'm sure you two will get along fine."

He walked away. Arthur, stunned. turned to face the magnate. "Mr Saito."

"Arthur." The older man looked at him. "You're here...with Robert?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"Well, strange world." The Japanese man chuckled. "Oh, don't worry." He shook his head. "He knows nothing from me."

Arthur nodded, and turned. Browning was staring at him with a look of abject hostility. Forcing a smile onto his face, he turned back to Saito. "Well, you must be wondering why-"

Saito raised an eyebrow. "I'm not. Excuse me."

Arthur watched as the other man turned to leave. Robert approached, and hooked an arm around his waist. "Smile," he instructed. He glanced at him. "That's it, picture of a happy couple," Fischer whispered. He looked over at Browning, and raised a glass.

"Right," Robert whispered. "Go upstairs. Wait for me. Lucinda will bring you a tray."

"What?" Arthur felt mildly astonished.

"Arthur. You're here as my...hired hooker. I can't have you sitting at the dinner table with these people." He turned and faced him. "Especially, as you're a criminal. We can't have that."

Arthur looked at Robert, and leaned in. "I'll wait for you."

Robert nodded. "Good." He turned, directing the stairs. "Off you go." He smiled, and Arthur began to move, when suddenly Robert grabbed his arm.

"Wait. Ichiro...he was telling the truth. He didn't tell me anything about the inception."

Arthur nodded. Robert's smirk threatened to split his face.

"He told Browning."

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur blinked, and looked at Robert. "Saito told Browning?"

"Yes," Robert whispered, huskily. "Told him. Told him how he was threatened by Dominic Cobb into agreeing to a dangerous plot. About how Cobb was a desperate man, threatening to kill himself." Robert's eyes flashed. "He told him that. But I know its not true. I know Saito instructed you to do it, telling Cobb he'd get him a safe ticket back into the States. Because Saito has tried to take over my company before. My company, Arthur. And Uncle Peter thinks I'm mentally too decrepit to take it back, and Saito can't wait to buy half."

Arthur looked at Robert, suddenly understanding.

"Yes, Arthur. Peter and Saito both feel aggrieved, and Saito is trying to get Browning to give him the rest of the company. But, its not going to happen, because you're going to help me extract from Peter, aren't you?"

Arthur's mouth twisted. "I don't have a choice."

"No, you don't. And I think this party is not the place for you. So why don't you run upstairs, and wait for me? Main bedroom." He leaned forward. "Wait for me in the bed."

Arthur nodded. "Of course."

* * *

In the main bedroom, Arthur carefully removed his suit, undressing to his boxers. He fingered the material - silk. As he began to carefully fold the clothes away, he had a thought.

"Weapons," he muttered.

Carefully, he began to open the drawers. Biting his lip, he began to comb through the piles of neatly stacked shirts, expensive underwear and socks. Nothing. No guns.

He moved towards the closets, blinking at the rows of handmade suits. He raised his eyebrows at the expensive cuts, all clearly bespoke tailoring. He rifled through, still finding nothing.

"May I help you?"

Arthur turned. Lucinda, the housekeeper, was looking at him. Arthur decided to brazen out the situation, and proceeded to lift up the bedclothes, and slide in.

"No, I'm fine."

She shook her head. "Well, if you need some fresh clothes-" she swallowed. "You're the first person Mr Fischer's brought home with him for a very long time." She set down a tray, and Arthur noticed it held a teapot, and a cup. "For you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Thank you."

"He said you would like a cup of tea." She smiled, and Arthur realised she was genuinely fond of her employer. "Enjoy."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

She turned, and left. Arthur sank into the bed, and looked at the pot. Suspicious, he elected not to drink it. He stretched out, trying to work out a strategy. Suddenly, he had a thought. Quietly slipping out of the bed, he moved towards the closet, to the hanging rack of ties. Selecting two, he carefully secreted them in the bed, under the pillow. Then, he laid back, and waited.

After a period of time had passed, the door opened. Robert entered, and smiled.

"Well, this is just what I expect." He moved towards the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he approached. "You, waiting for me." He stood at the bed, and began to unbuckle his belt. Arthur raised an eyebrow, and smiled.

"Can't wait, can you Robert?"

Robert looked at him. "Arthur. Why do you think I made an excuse and left?" He let his trousers drop to the floor, and took another step towards the bed. "Browning is furious that I left early, but I told him I have better things to do..."

He leaned over the bed, and Arthur, reaching up, grabbed the other man's shoulders, and kissed him. Robert immediately responded, his back arching slightly as started to move into the bed.

"Oh, Arthur," he almost purred. "Please." Arthur looped his arms around his waist, and pulled him onto the bed. "I always knew you would be like this," Robert said, suggestively.

Arthur looked at him, propping himself up on one elbow. "like what?" he said, tracing his fingers down Robert's side. The alabaster skin seemed even paler in the dim light. "Like what, Robert?"

The older man smiled. "Aggressive. Knowing. Prepared to take control." He looked at him. "I knew you wouldn't just lie there for me. Other men have been intimidated by me in the past...and women. I knew that you wouldn't be." He moved closer to Arthur, winding his arms around him. "I need someone strong, confident, able to..."

Arthur looked at him. "Protect you?"

Robert smiled. "Maybe." He reached out, and brushed Arthur's cheek. "You and I, Arthur, we could be-"

Arthur grabbed his wrist. "Be what?" his tone was challenging. "Be what, Robert? A couple? Is that what you want?"

"Isn't it what you want?" Robert's tone didn't flinch. "A couple, as you were with Eames?" He smiled. "Don't you get lonely, Arthur? Lonely like I am?" He looked at him. "The type of loneliness that always covers you. Even though you're meant to be the billionaire playboy that everyone wants."

The Point Man swallowed. "No."

"You're lying," Robert began to move over him. "You're lying to me, Arthur. Don't play games. I don't like it when people-"

Suddenly, his eyes widened. Arthur had moved quickly, looping one of the ties round his head, and moving it into Robert's mouth. The older man glared at him as he tied it. As he tried to swipe at Arthur, he found his hands tied with the other. Putting a hand on his chest, Arthur shoved him back, up against the bed.

"If you want to play," Arthur said through gritted teeth, "you play by my rules. Understand, Mr Fischer?"

Robert, his eyes narrowing, nodded.

"Good," Arthur said, nodding. "Then maybe we can start with my questions."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Robert looked at Arthur, his eyes burning with anger. Arthur pushed himself up, and stood by the edge of the bed. He took a breath, then began.

"You seem to think you're in control here, but you're not. And, neither am I. Saito sold me and the team out; Browning has sold you out. We're in the same position. Do you understand?"

Robert narrowed his eyes, his expression sullen. Arthur leaned forward.

"Mr. Fischer. You have to co-operate with me. If you understand, nod your head."

With reluctance, Robert's head jerked forward. He settled against the padded headrest.

"This is what's happened." Arthur met the other man's eyes. "Cobb tells me that there are concerns that you may not break up your father's empire, which means we haven't gone deep enough. He leaves me the task of incepting you again." The Point Man swallowed. "This means Saito is putting pressure on him, pressure that we don't need. If you remember, well, we all go to jail. Especially Dom."

Fischer nodded. Arthur swore he could see a look of smugness passing over the other man's face. He kept himself composed, and continued.

"But Browning is claiming you're mentally fragile, unable to cope with your father's grief. Except, you hated him, and never missed an opportunity to tell him so. Which means he knows that something's changed. And he tried to find out."

Robert raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

"He finds out from Saito. Maybe he blackmails him, threatens to buy him out. But he knows you were incepted. Now he has a reason to get rid of you."

Robert's face began to pale. Arthur nodded.

"Yes, Mr Fischer. Your godfather, the man who you thought of as a surrogate father, is the man who wants you to go. When we incepted you, we weren't doing Saito a favour. We were doing Browning a favour."

Arthur leaned forward. "Do you want me to help you, Mr Fischer?"

Robert nodded.

"I thought so. You want me to extract from Browning. All of it? The fact he was ever a member of Fischer-Morrow? You're prepared to erase the last thirty years of the man's life from his mind?"

Robert nodded.

"I thought so." Arthur looked at him. "You want me to go into a man's mind. But, there is a clause in this - you come with me. This is your extraction. Understand?"

Fischer narrowed his eyes.

"But first," Arthur continued, "I need to go into your subconscious. I have to find out what I'm working with." Swallowing, he leaned down, and pulled out the PASIV, carefully concealed under the bed. Moving to the door, he checked it was locked.

"Listen to me. I'm going to put this-" he held up the IV - "We're going to go under for a little while. I just want to explore what you have in there."

Fischer raised an eyebrow. Arthur leaned over, and carefully untied the gag.

"Be my guest," he almost purred. Arthur nodded. He was aware Fischer had had his mind militarised; he could handle it. Swallowing, he laid down next to him.

"Untie me." It was a command. Arthur turned his head.

"Ten minutes," he said softly. Leaning over, he pressed the PASIV.

* * *

Arthur turned. He was standing in a locker room. He blinked. High School. But, he noticed from the expensive looking benches, and lockers, this was not a public school. Private.

He heard a rustling noise. Suddenly, he realised Robert was coming out of the showers, a towel swathed around his slender hips. Arthur darted in between two rows of lockers, the shadows concealing him.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in came a group of four boys. Older, bigger. Standing in a line, they looked at Fischer, aggressively.

"Well, well. If it isn't little Fischer."

Robert stiffened. "Look, I-"

"Shut up!" The ringleader stepped forward, almost pressing Robert flat against the wall. "Remember the deal, huh? Fifty dollars each. Tomorrow. Or, you'll be going home with that pretty face a mess."

Robert swallowed. "I-"

"I said, shut up!" The other boy jeered. "What's fifty dollars to you? Everyone knows you're the richest kid in the school! You can do a little charity work and help us!"

Robert nodded. "OK."

The bully smiled. "Tomorrow. Or that pretty face...gets it."

The group exited the locker room, laughing. As Arthur watched, a small puddle of urine formed at Robert's feet. Arthur closed his eyes, allowing himself to plunge into darkness.

* * *

Arthur blinked, and sat up. He was in a room - a college dorm room, he realised. It was larger than average, and sparsely furnished. Books and papers cluttered a desk, and clothes were draped on the back of a chair. He suddenly realised he was sitting on the edge of a bed, with a couple in it.

He got up, and began to take a couple of steps back. The man was Fischer - he could tell from the long, thin frame, and alabaster skin. But lying next to him was a woman. A wild tangle of strawberry blonde curls lay over her shoulders. As the early morning light began to shift and infiltrate the room, she stirred, sleepily. Moving over, she began to kiss his shoulder.

Arthur swallowed. Turning, he noticed the walk in closet, with a door that was invitingly open. Hurrying into it, he pulled the door, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Mmm," he murmured. Turning over, he smiled at her, and opened his arms. She curled next to him, resting her head on his chest.

"Robert," she muttered, "when are you going to introduce me to your father?"

He shifted. "I don't know." Despite the sleepiness of his voice, Arthur detected an undertone of irritation. He swallowed.

She pulled away from him. "Of course you don't," she muttered. Pushing the covers aside, she began to move towards the bathroom. Arthur held his breath. He felt like a voyeur.

"Look!" Robert's voice was a shock - it was louder than Arthur had expected, and held a current of anger. "He's a very busy man - I hardly see him myself! If he's not in Sydney, he's in LA, or he's in Hong Kong, or he's in London! Besides, we've been together for-"

"Six months," she pointed out. "Six months!" She shook her head. "I've introduced you to my family - my Mom adores you! She thinks you're a sweet young man! But I guess my family aren't good enough for you, are they - we're from Wisconsin, and you're from a mansion!"

"Izzie!" Robert began to get out of bed. "Izzie, its not that, please don't think it!"

She stopped. "Then what is it, then?" her words held a challenging note. Arthur's eyes noted how Robert's face trembled. She shook her head. "No, don't tell me. I know."

"You know what?" he whispered.

"What everyone says." She was reaching for her clothes, pulling them on, seemingly not caring how rumpled they were. "That I'm not your type." The words were bitter, angry. "That if I was male, you might be more interested."

Robert's jaw dropped.

"I won't be your-" she paused, and then turned. Without saying another word, she left the room.

Arthur blinked. Robert, who had been so composed, crumpled. Sitting on the bed, he bent over, and sobbed.

Arthur couldn't bear to watch. The closet, which had become a lift, allowed its metal grill door to clang shut, and he pressed a button.

He blinked again. He was looking out at a terrace. It was an expensive, fashionable restaurant. Peter Browning was sitting, in a suit. Sitting across from him, was Robert. Dressed in an expensive suit, with a gold rolex. Browning was looking at him, his face creased in almost fraternal concern.

"Dessert?"

"No," Robert mumbled. "I should get back to the office. Those figures you wanted me to look at-"

"Robert, they can wait. You're looking thin." Browning shook his head. "I'm sure Maurice wouldn't want you to-"

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Maurice wouldn't notice if I collapsed in front of him." He shook his head. "You know that. You've been more of a father to me than him."

"Well, that's why I have to make sure you don't waste away." Browning spoke jovially. "Cheesecake. I insist on it."

Robert nodded duitfully.

Arthur blinked, and hurried back to the safety of the lift.

The doors opened again. He was standing outside an open office door.

"Listen, its very simple. Power of attorney has to be in my name."

"Mr Browning, it should go to Robert. He is the next of kin-"

"Robert is spoiled, weak. Just a baby. He hasn't a clue how to run this company."

"Mr Browning, that is your partner's son you're talking about."

"The son who has been nothing but a burden."

Arthur blinked. Suddenly, turning, he saw Robert. He opened his mouth to speak, but the ground began to shake.

* * *

He opened his eyes. Robert's eyelids were flickering. As he turned to the slightly older man, a wave of pity swept through him. Robert locked eyes with him, his face burning with anger.

"So," he said, coldly. "Do you understand, now?"

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Do you understand, Arthur?"

Arthur blinked, focusing on Robert's face. The older man was biting his lip, betraying his anxiety. Arthur reached out, and took his hand.

"I think I do," he said, wondering whether this was the correct route. To his relief, Fischer smiled, and began to move closer to him. "Everyone thought my life was so wonderful...and I was locked in a gilded cage."

Arthur frowned slightly. Fischer's poor little rich boy routine didn't quite cut it. "You could have left."

"And thrown away my inheritance. Why would I do that?"

Arthur began to get up, and moved to the edge of the bed. "Well, Robert, you almost had me feeling sorry for you." He stood up, facing the other man. "You just showed me your memories - not dreams, memories - and all I saw was a catalogue of abuse. Bullied at school, having to hide your sexuality at College, ignored by your father, preyed upon by your godfather- and yet you never had the backbone to just walk away. You're intelligent, good looking...you could have branched out. Started your own business, even done something crazy like modelling...and yet, you stayed. Because ultimately, you are weak. And you want me to help you break into the mind of someone even weaker."

Robert got up, his eyes glinting. "Oh, Arthur. Weak am I?"

Suddenly, the Point Man found himself being shoved back against a wall, Robert's mouth on his, tongue probing forcefully, pushing past his teeth. He felt skillful, slender fingers reach down, and start to tug at his underwear. Robert leaned in, nibbling his lip, causing Arthur to gasp.

"That's right," Robert leaned back, his fingers still tugging at Arthur's boxers. "I'm weak. And so are you. You can't resist. And I don't want you to."

Arthur leaned in, and started to nibble Robert's neck. The other man wrapped his arms around his waist, and practically lifted him off the floor, turning, and throwing him on the bed. Smiling, he got on top, and straddled him.

"Did you ask for this job?" Robert whispered, leaning down.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"I think..." Robert leaned in. "I think you wanted this job. I think you wanted me-"

His words were cut off by Arthur kissing him. Pulling him down. After a couple of frantically exchanged kisses, the two men were more subdued, and laid down together, facing each other.

"So," Robert said, softly. "We're in a bit of a mess."

Arthur nodded. "We are."

Robert smirked. "Could be worse." He sighed. "At least you're sweet."

Arthur smiled. "I try."

"Listen...I need you to help me." Robert's hand reached out, and closed over his. "I need you to help me with Browning. I want him out of the company. We can extract, then incept, can't we?"

"We can," Arthur said, nodding. "But there is one condition."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"You leave the team alone. Understand?"

Robert nodded, his china blue eyes clear. "Yes."

Suddenly, the door burst open, Robert letting out a howl of outrage. "What?!"

Browning stalked in, his expression grim. A couple of other men were present - faceless, nodescript, clad in black. Browning clicked his fingers, and pointed at Arthur. "Take him downstairs. Now!"

Robert sprang off the bed. "In the name of Christ, what are you doing?!"

"Robert, will you calm down, or do I have to have you sedated?" Browning looked at him. "Now, I know that you've been under a lot of stress, but this really isn't the way to handle it. You can't just pick up a ten dollar hooker like this, he'll clean you out!"

Robert's jaw dropped. Arthur, furious, rammed his elbow into the stomach of one of the men, but the other proceeded to grab his arm, pulling it out. He gasped as it was twisted in its socket.

"You want your arms broken, carry on," Browning advised him. "Robert, you know its my job to do what's necessary. And that includes taking out the trash."

Robert blinked. As he tried to move forward, the guard turned round, punching him in the face. He staggered back, and Arthur was swiftly pulled out of the room.

The doors were shut. Browning turned Arthur. "Take him downstairs."

**Thank you for reading, reviews appreciated!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed, and grimaced. Salivia, tainted with blood, had filled his mouth. He blinked, focusing on Peter Browning. The older man was standing in front of him, his head tilted. He lifted his hand, and gestured with his fingers.

"Again."

One of the non descript, faceless men walked towards Arthur. The Point Man raised an eyebrow. The man looked at him, and shook his head.

"He'll snap like a twig." He turned to Browning. "This isn't a fair fight."

Arthur bristled. He was tied to a rough chair, his arms clinched behind his back, and his legs fastened securely to those of the chair. He tried to pull himself loose, but didn't succeed in even moving.

Browning shrugged. "I don't think going into my godson's head, and causing him to want to break up the empire his father worked on his entire life, is fair. Its time the balance was re-dressed."

Arthur swallowed. He raised his eyebrows. Smirking, Browning's minion raised his fist.

The force of the blow nearly knocked the Point Man off balance. He choked, trying to re-align his jaw. The minion looked at him, then turned to Browning.

"I think the pretty boy wants some more."

Browning nodded. "Go ahead."

Arthur choked, and blinked. _Eames and Ariadne should be wondering why they haven't heard from me by now. _

Maybe they would come for him.

Suddenly, a metal bar swung up in front of his eyes. Before Arthur could raise his head, it fell, ploughing with force into his abdomen.

He choked, then felt himself recoil. He tried to sit up.

The minion nodded. "Want some more?" The bar swung up again, and drove back down, into the Point Man.

Arthur could not contain himself. Retching, he watched with horror as he vomited over the floor.

Maybe Eames and Ariadne were thinking of how they could find him.

Or maybe they could just pick out some clothes for his funeral.

* * *

"This is ridiculous!" Robert stormed. He was still in the bedroom, one of Browning's minions barring the door. "Don't you realise that you're on my payroll? You work for me!"

The other man merely raised an eyebrow. "Mr Fischer, I suggest you calm down. Mr Browning has given his instructions."

Robert looked at him, his expression darkening. "Mr. Browning does not own this company, or give the orders round here. I do."

The man took a step forward. "Listen, I suggest you sit down, and cool off." There was a menacing undertone in his voice. "You think we don't all watch you, strutting around? Listen, you don't have the brains, or guts, to run this company. Now, just sit down."

Robert took a deep breath, and complied. The man shook his head.

"Browning was right."

Robert's head went up. "Right about what?"

* * *

"Let me explain why you're down here." Browning circled closer to Arthur, noting how the younger man was coughing to clear his throat and mouth. "What you did to my godson...that was hurtful." He knelt down, allowing them to make eye contact. "But then you chose to come back. Posing as a hooker." He shook his head. "Robert is naive. But I'm not."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You just love to control Robert, don't you?"

Browning shook his head. "Its for his own good. He'll never understand what Maurice wanted. And I can't let him destroy this company."

Arthur swallowed. "His projection of you was right. You really are just a self-serving-"

He stopped. The pressure of a gun was felt at his neck.

"If you want me to kill you now, keep talking. Otherwise..."

Arthur fell silent.

"Good. I see you still have some sense. Bag him!"

* * *

****Robert stayed on the chair. His confidence had deserted him. Suddenly, the door opened, and Browning strode in.

"Robert!" he said, smiling. "Here!"

Before Fischer could move, or protest, a burlap sack had been shoved over his head. "What - what- are you?"

Browning grabbed his wrist. "Now, calm down," he said, soothingly. "You're going for a ride."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed as he found himself seated in the back of a van. He listened carefully. He could hear the scrape of the driver's door opening, and the grunt of a man as he seated himself. He pulled at his wrists. Handcuffs.

Suddenly, he heard another voice. "Get in." Before he could move, he realised Fischer was being bundled in, next to him.

"Robert, please." Browning's tone was placating. "Please. Stop crying."

Arthur's eyes widened. He swallowed, and realised he could hear subdued, rasping sobs coming from the new passenger.

"It will all be over soon." The Point Man flinched - Browning sounded like a parent trying to mollify a child before a dental appointment. "Trust me."

The doors shut with an empty metal clang; the sound reverberated, making Arthur flinch. Swallowing, he reached out, and felt for Robert.

"Hey," he whispered, placing his hand on the other man's knee. "It will be ok."

He felt Fischer pull back. "You don't know that," he whispered, savagely.

Arthur swallowed. "Trust me, Robert. Please."

The van purred into life, and Arthur leaned back as it began to drive. He realised that neither he nor Robert had been sedated, and this immediately started a new train of thought.

_He must want us to - _he stopped. He began to reach his cuffed hands up, and pull at the hood.

"Hey!" A sharp voice echoed through the van, and he stopped. Suddenly, he felt a baton strike against his forearm. "Stop that!"

Arthur blinked. Before he could be struck again, he pulled off the hood, and lunged. Seated opposite him on the other bench was a large man, his build that of a wrestler. His opponent blinked, shocked, at Arthur's speed. Without pausing, the Point Man managed to coil himself around him, and pressed down on his neck.

"Hey, what's going on?!" The driver bellowed.

Arthur effectively shoved the limp heavy aside, and grabbed Robert. "Trust me," he whispered. He pulled the other man to his feet, and opened the back doors.

He sucked in his breath. The van was moving quickly, and, he noticed, they were clearly far away from a town. All he could see were green side banks.

"Arthur!" Robert's voice held a desperate note. "What are you doing?"

Arthur realised he had no time. Tucking his arm around Robert's waist, he jumped from the van, pulling the slender man with him. Raising his arm to cover his face, they hit the grassy bank, turning over as they slowed.

Arthur released his grip on Robert. He quickly moved to pull the bag from his face. "Are you allright?"

"I-" Robert was stunned, unable to speak. Arthur noticed a graze on the pale cheek. "I- did you break anything?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think so." He began to pull himself up, and suddenly, his eyes widened.

The van, clearly now aware it was missing its cargo, was swerving round. Arthur grabbed Robert. "Move!"

The other man was barely on his feet, and was nearly knocked off them by Arthur. The van drove menacingly near, then stopped. Arthur stiffened.

"Stay close," he whispered. The driver's door opened, and the man stepped out. His face was twisted in an ugly smirk.

"Listen, pretty boy," he spat, looking directly at Arthur. "You're coming with me." His fist was raised, swinging towards the Point Man's face. Without hesitating, he dodged the blow, instead bringing his leg up in a roundhouse kick, then following by punching the other man in the jaw. He staggered. Before he could move again, Arthur grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed his head down on the hood. The man groaned, and Arthur responded by banging his head down again. A juddering gasp escaped the driver's lips, and Arthur responded by shoving him onto the bank. He fell down, heavily.

"Robert!"

"What about the handcuffs?" There was a quaver in Robert's voice. The Point Man turned. "Check his pockets." Robert nodded, and Arthur moved round to the back.

His assailant was still stretched out on the floor, not moving. Arthur eyed him, then proceeded to rummage through his pockets. He pulled out a wallet, and tucked it into his own pocket.

"Arthur!"

Swallowing, the Point Man jumped out of the van, then proceeded to grab the ankles of the other man. With a heave, he pulled him out of the van, and dumped him on the road. "What is it?"

"I've got the key!"

Arthur looked at him. "Good. Give it to me."

Robert complied, and Arthur quickly hooked it into the lock, and uncuffed Robert. "Right. Your turn." With trembling fingers, the other man managed to prise open the locks.

"Listen," Arthur said, looking at Robert. "Rifle his pockets."

"What?" Robert looked taken aback. "What for?"

"His wallet." Arthur nodded. "If he has cash, we'll need it. Do you have a credit card on you?"

Robert opened his mouth, then shook his head. "I-"

"You need to start thinking like a criminal, Mr Fischer." There was a ghost of a smile on Arthur's face. "Trust me."

Fischer's jaw tightened, but he duitfully rifled pockets, finding a thick black wallet. "Good. Come on."

Arthur slammed the doors to the van, and hurried to the driver's seat. The engine, he noted, was still running. As Fischer slid into the passenger seat, he began to drive away.

"Wait!" Fischer turned to him, his expression incredulous. "You're just going to leave them there?!"

Arthur looked ahead. "Well, we could take them with us, but I'm sure their plan was to leave us at the bottom of a lake." He turned to Robert. "What do you think?"

"I-" Robert blinked. "What are you planning on doing?"

"My plan is to keep driving, find a motel where we can pay cash, and stay there." Arthur swallowed. "We need to work out a plan."

"We?" Fischer's eyes were widening. "Arthur, stop. Let me out-"

Arthur pulled into a roadside curve. He turned and glared at the other man.

"You want to get out?" he challenged. "Go ahead. But remember this. Your godfather wants you dead, Robert. He's already convinced the board that you're suffering mental stress. He has connections to make you disappear. He'll make it look like a suicide, the product of a troubled mind. You understand?"

Robert fell silent. Arthur softened his voice.

"I can't guarantee that I can solve this. But if you're with me, we can buy time. On your own, you wouldn't last two minutes. You're a businessman Robert - you don't think to survive in the shadows."

Robert swallowed. "OK."

"Here." Arthur tossed him the wallet. "See if you can find cash, put it together."

Robert nodded, and Arthur put his foot down, accelerating.

* * *

Arthur drove, the long winding highways hypnotising him. He turned his head. Robert had nodded off, his head cradled against the neck rest.

The Point Man swallowed. He was concerned they would run out of gas, and he was beginning to feel tired. They had been on the road for over three hours, and he was anxiously scanning the roads.

"Robert?"

The other man moved, and began to open his eyes. "Hmm?"

"Keep your eyes open." Arthur spoke kindly. "We need a motel, ok?"

Robert nodded. "All right."

Arthur kept focused. After another twenty minutes, Robert called out. "Arthur! Ahead!"

The other man nodded, and began to swerve off the road. A motel was sitting on the side of the road, with VACANCIES posted on its sign. Arthur swerved into the parking lot, and braked.

"Come with me," he said, turning to Robert. "We can't be alone, ok?"

Robert blinked. "I-" Realising Arthur was serious, he nodded. "OK."

The two men got out, and walked towards the office. A motherly looking woman in her late fifties looked up. "May I help you?"

"Can I book a unit, please?" Arthur asked politely. She swallowed. "Just one?"

"Yes," Arthur said. "If that's ok."

She chuckled. "Honey, if you can pay, its none of my business." She opened the ledger. "No 36 is free. That'll be 25 dollars a night. There's a diner a five minute walk if you want to get some food."

Arthur signed the ledger, and handed over fifty dollars. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Arthur and Robert began to walk over to the unit. As he unlocked the door, he nodded. "Its ok." He entered the space, which was sparsely but still comfortably furnished.

Robert looked around, his face sagging. "Its-"

"Not the Four Seasons, I know" Arthur interrupted. "But we can stay here for at least a night."

"Won't Browning be looking for us?" Robert protested.

Arthur bit his lip. "If he is, its a question of how far." He looked at Robert. "Have a shower. Then we'll get some food, ok?"

Robert nodded. "If you say so."

"Robert..." Arthur leaned over, and touched the other man's hand. "Please. Just trust me."

Robert tried to smile, but his mouth twisted. "Funny. Peter always used to say that."

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Feeling better?"

Robert nodded. He'd stood under the tepid shower for at least twenty minutes, desperately trying to clear his head. As he'd exited, he'd found Arthur sitting on one of the twin beds. His eyes, Robert noted, were sympathetic.

"Yes, thanks." His tone was slightly abrupt, but Arthur didn't blink. He began to carefully towel himself dry, not bothering he was practically naked. "A little."

"Robert, I know this-" Arthur stopped. He wanted to express sympathy, even understanding. But he had noticed a certain coolness about the other man's demeanour, and was aware that walls were starting to go up. He swallowed. "I was planning on going to the diner. Get some food. You want to come?"

Robert blinked. "Yes."

"I don't really want to leave you on your own." Arthur was choosing his words carefully, but was aware that the truth could still be read. "We don't know whose out there, and-"

"Arthur." Robert's voice was soft. "I don't have anyone now but you." He gave the Point Man a half smile as he began to straighten his clothes. "Its that simple."

Arthur nodded, and gave a small smile in return. "OK. Let's go."

* * *

"What can I get you?"

Arthur looked up. The two men had arrived to find the diner half empty, with small groups of people dotted around. Scanning the room, Arthur choose a booth to the side. Not completely hidden, but not conspicuous enough to gain attention. He smiled as he put down the laminated, grease smeared menu.

"A burger, please. With steak fries."

She nodded as she scribbled it on her pad. "Sure. And...?"

"The same," Robert said, hurriedly. Nodding, she pocketed the notebook, and hurried in the direction of the kitchen. Arthur looked down at his hands. Normally confident, he realised starting a conversation with the other man would prove difficult.

He looked up, noting how Robert was gazing out of the window. How does he feel? Everything he knew has been ripped away. Everything-

"So how long do we stay here?" Robert asked suddenly, breaking the Point Man's train of thought. Caught out, Arthur blushed slightly and fiddled with the plastic menu.

"I told you. Just tonight. We need to keep moving." Arthur bit his lip, aware that he sounded as though he had a plan. But, he knew with a crushing certainty, he'd never felt less sure of what to do. He was with a billionaire with one of the most recognisable faces in the country, if not the world. He had no means of contacting his team mates, and no idea of what Browning was planning to do.

He was vulnerable. The only thing that stopped him from even continuing to entertain this disturbing new sensation was the certainty that the man seated opposite was more vulnerable than he was. He took a deep breath, reaching for his water glass.

"We-" he stopped. Suddenly, he became aware that Robert was looking straight at him.

"Arthur. Its allright." The other man shrugged. "You don't know what to do- I don't know what to do. Its fine. All I know is that the man I trusted more than my father is clearly plotting to kill me." He rubbed his forehead. "And he has enough connections to ensure its never traced back to him."

Arthur swallowed. "Robert I-" Suddenly, he froze. A reflection in the glass panel behind Robert had caught his eye. Robert blinked. "Arthur, what-"

Arthur shook his head, barely perceptibly. Robert stiffened. Entering through the door had been two young men, dressed in black. Arthur felt himself tensing, but, as he watched them and saw the waitress greet them personally, realised they were simply locals. As they eased themselves onto seats at the diner's bar, he breathed. "False alarm."

Robert, whose face was slightly paler, nodded. "OK."

Both man lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, broken by their food arriving. Arthur picked up his fork, but noticed Robert looked at it almost distastefully.

"Listen." Robert looked up. "I know its not cordon bleu, but you need to eat. I can't carry you if you're sick."

The other man nodded, and listlessly speared a fry. Arthur took a sip of water, and began to focus on his own food. After twenty minutes, Robert threw his fork on the plate with a clatter. The Point Man looked up. He'd cleared barely half.

"Sorry." Robert shook his head. "Not hungry."

Arthur nodded. Reaching for a napkin, he wiped his mouth, and gestured to the waitress.

* * *

"Follow me."

Robert waited for Arthur to lead him back to their motel room. The Point Man was carefully scanning the parking lot, looking out for any unwanted attention. Finally, they arrived back in the unit.

Robert looked at Arthur. "Well. Guess we'd better go to bed."

Arthur nodded, moving into the bathroom. He'd managed to buy basic toiletries from the friendly owner, and began to splash his face, planning on brushing his teeth. After finishing, he walked back into the room. Robert silently got up and entered the bathroom.

Arthur stripped to his underwear, carefully folded his clothes, and pulled back the covers. The motel's beds were designed for use rather than comfort - thin blankets, and, he noticed, nylon sheets. He shrugged; he and Robert were essentially fugitives. It was better than nothing. He climbed into bed, and pulled up the sheets.

Eames.

He blinked. His mind kept circling, returning to the Forger. He was here - was Eames aware? Jealous? Worried?

Robert exited the bathroom, and switched off the lights. Before Arthur could speak, the other man had climbed into bed. Arthur closed his eyes, not wishing to break the silence.

Suddenly, Robert spoke. "Arthur?"

"Yes?" The Point Man, startled, spoke more sharply than he'd intended. "What is it?"

"Arthur, I-" Robert's voice quavered. Suddenly, the Point Man knew. Instinctively, he got up, and began to walk towards Robert. Without speaking, he pulled back the covers, and began to wrap his body around the other man's. He shivered. Robert felt cold to the touch.

Robert grasped Arthur's hand, and pulled it round his chest. Neither man spoke. Arthur settled his cheek on Robert's back, allowing himself to be lulled by the other man's soft, rhythmic breathing.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur turned over, his hand lightly brushing against Robert's back. The other man stirred, and mumbled slightly in his sleep. Arthur turned onto his back, swallowing. He got up, realising there was a growing discomfort in his bladder, suggesting the advisibility of a visit to the bathroom. He headed for the en suite, careful not to disturb the other man too much.

In the privacy of the bathroom, he voided his bladder, then sank down onto the closed toilet lid. His mind was swirling with thoughts. He and Robert had so far escaped - for now. But Browning would send men after them, and the team-

The team! His eyes blinked open. There had been no communication from them, nothing to indicate that they were even party to this information. He'd gone undercover - but had Browning realised, and notified them? He suddenly felt cold, wondering what danger his actions had put the others in. Cobb, Ariadne...Eames-

"Arthur?"

His head jerked up. Robert's voice, pale through the still room, had emerged. "Arthur, are you-"

"Yes, coming!" Arthur got up hastily, flushing the toilet and proceeding to put his hands under the running tap. He swallowed, and dried his hands. As he walked into the bedroom, adjusting his boxers, he noticed Robert was sitting up in bed.

"Are you allright?" Arthur asked, cautiously.

Robert nodded. "I just...woke up. You weren't here."

Arthur had to suppress a smile. One of the wealthiest, most powerful young men in the world looked like a child who'd left his teddy in another room. He pulled back the covers, and slid in next to him. "Needed the bathroom." He lent back on the covers.

"I just thought youd'..." Robert's voice trailed off, causing Arthur to look at him with concern. "I thought you'd gone."

Arthur shook his head, both touched and worried by Robert's insecurity. "No, I'm still here."

Robert nodded. "Thank you." He slid down in the bed, and Arthur moved towards him. Before he could move or protest, Robert was sliding his arm around him.

Arthur let the older man move into him. He laid down, with Robert's head lying on his shoulder. Swallowing, he put his arm round his shoulders. "Why did you think I was going to go? We're in this together."

Robert swallowed. "Well, I-" he paused. "I have no idea what you and the others were really trying to do. For all I knew, you could have your team outside, ready to leave me."

"My team don't even know I'm here," Arthur said, quietly. "And neither does Browning, all right?"

Robert nodded. "OK." He looked at him. "What are we going to do, Arthur? I have lost my fortune. Browning will cut me off from my own company, take my inheritance. I'll have nothing."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not interested in you for that." He said it half jokingly, and felt pained when he saw the look of palpable distress passing across Robert's face. "You forget that I'm an extractor. A Point Man. I can do Cobb's job, as well as my own."

"So what do you propose we do?"

Arthur swallowed. "We need to go below the radar. We need to extract from Browning."

"But he'll - he'll kill me! Or you!"

Arthur turned and looked at Robert, his dark brown eyes boring into the other man's ice blue ones. Instinctively, he reached out and took Robert's hand, curling his fingers round it.

"Not if we kill him first."

Reviews** are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


End file.
